Internet Box and the Quest for Mike
by VoodooSoup
Summary: We begin with our heroes leaving the local pub and returning to their home.
1. Chapter 1

Morning. The sun's rays stretched across the horizon and flooded a small village on the eastern side of Mount Ezra. Boxton was a small farming town only a mile west of the Alicotti River. On the outskirts, were several small ranch houses that belonged to wheat and vegetable farmers. Closer to the town center were merchant stands that sold vegetables and meats while, around them, was an inn, a blacksmith, and several stores selling potions, jewelry, and even hunting supplies.

Another such establishment in the town center was a pub: Sir Woodrow's, where a rowdy bunch of locals could be seen clear across town, stumbling out the front doors. Leading the inebriated pack were their two strongest members, Michael and Andrew stepping awkwardly arm in arm, singing to the heavens.

Michael wore two iron bracers, both marked with engravings to match the tattoos they obscured. The bracers reflected the early morning's rays onto his bare chest and lit up his drunken grin-clad face to the town. Michael's drunkenness was paralleled only to his rage. Once, coming back from a hunting trip, a full grown giant had come after Michael's spoils as he dragged them homeward, but the giant wasn't around for long as Michael's thunderous shouts quickly relieved him of the beast. Andrew, also a powerful melee fighter, was known across the land, from sandy shores to rocky mountains for his fearsome, crimson complexion. Many say that if you cross the mighty Blanche, his burning, red glow will be the last thing your unfortunate eyes behold. Andrew wore a lighter brown, worn leather chest piece. This was a conscious decision he had made long ago. He realized if he were to wear a metal chest plate, the glow of his face would reflect and intensify, potentially giving away his position when in combat.

Following the team's two brutes came the archer, Barbara, who had both arms wrapped around the always-sober mage: Ray. The team had managed to, somehow, convince Ray to come to the pub with them that night, knowing of his aversion to alcohol. Ray had considered leaving earlier in the night, but he concluded that caring for his intoxicated companions would be amusing to him and helpful to them, so he was content. Coming from a very comfortable lifestyle, Ray had only worn a simple tunic and pants to the pub. He hadn't even put on shoes, but he had worn a hat in an attempt to mask the ridiculous haircut he had received from a traveling barber. When Ray had fallen asleep during the affair, the barber became angered and made a disaster of Ray's hair, leaving the only remaining hair on the very top of his head. When he awoke to see the damage, Ray became outraged and, without hesitation, scorched the barber to a crisp with a simple fire spell to exact his revenge.

In contrast to Ray, Barbara dressed in one of her finest armor sets to let everyone around her know of her prowess as a range-based fighter. In part, it was to show off her identity as a "tough chick", but also to accent her beauty, which she often used as a means of distraction on unsuspecting bandits while collecting bounties when stealth wasn't an option, which it rarely wasn't.

Behind Ray and Barbara, was Kerry, in one of his everyday coats and a pair of ill-fitting pants. He carried, in one hand, a mug he had stolen from the pub and in the other, a small amount of dynamite he had just bought from a dealer he met that night. Kerry was the team's explosives handler. If anyone needed anything to go boom, they called for Kerry.

Riding on Kerry's back, fast asleep was Michael's fiancé, Lindsay. Her ruby-red hair masked her snoozing face till a gust of wind came and swept it over her shoulder. The night before, Lindsay had attempted to take the same route as Barbara and put on her finest armor, but ultimately couldn't decide on what to wear so she put on a simple dress. It was nothing that separated her from the other women in the town. However, Lindsay was not like other women in Boxton. Years ago, she had been cursed with the ability to see the future. At first this seemed like quite a blessing, but she soon discovered that her excitement would get the better of her and she developed a tendency to ruin the ending of every story that came up in discussions. After several years of training with her ability, she has not spoiled stories on as frequent of a basis and she has shaped it to help her strategize when hunting.

Lastly, tailing the group was Mike and Dylon. Dylon, the youngest of the group, showed great promise as a supportive teammate. His healing and shield spells far surpassed all others of his age in both strength and duration. Dylon's father worked as a field medic during the Anthropes War, so the young mage had worked as his father's assistant early on. At the age of fourteen, he once held a large-radius shield spell for three hours to allow his father some time to revive some fallen soldiers. Were it not for Dylon's assistance, that battle would have surely been lost.

Mike, whose erratic footsteps kept causing him to consistently bump into Dylon and Kerry on his way out of the pub, had had only one and a half mugs of mead that night, which Michael insisted that he chug down. It didn't take much to turn Mike into a slovenly mess. This is why his departure in the morning came with less clothing. Mike had worn a shirt and vest into the pub that night, but now he had only the vest, with no memory of having a shirt in the first place. Mike was the group's fledgling fighter. He had much to learn, but he was learning from some of the best. While Mike wasn't the best fighter, he was, however, a skilled cook. Pizza was his specialty, but it wasn't the pizza as a whole, it was his marinara sauce that made the dish. If the team was going to eat, Mike had to be kept around.

Unlike the chilly temperatures from their departure the night before, the morning sun seemed to be getting hotter and hotter as the drunken group climbed the gradual, dirt slope to their large cottage on one of the town's taller hills. Just when the sweltering heat became wholly unbearable, the brass knob sizzled to Andrew's touch as he turned it and thrust the front door open. The group trudged into the musty, humid wooden house one by one. As they walked, Michael removed his bracers and tossed them into a corner, Andrew began pulling at his chest piece, Barbara shelled her fancy armor, letting it drop as Ray ripped off his cap, throwing it upward to reveal his butchered hair, Lindsay violently woke up as Kerry collapsed upon his entrance. Slowly, but surely, the group filed in, disrobing as they did, till they ultimately flopped down in a random location of the house. For some, it was a bed, for others, it was a chair, and for a special few, it was the floor.

The long night of drinking and merriment was over, the morning light had risen from its slumber, and Boxton's people had begun the day's work. The tired crew had a whole day of silence ahead of them. The air around them was still, there was the distant sound of peddling merchants in the town below and the calling of livestock in the fields, but for them, the world was...

Silent...

Silent...

Silent...

All was silent until the outside world grew louder. A commotion was heard in the town below. A vicious roar erupted from overhead. Eight heads shot straight up. Eight minds were jolted into foggy alertness. Eight pairs of eyes widened with fear as the front of their home was ripped outward by an immense, reptilian beast and a deep, booming voice bellowed, "I come for the one known as Mike Kroon!"

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

The team stood, petrified in the center of their newly-renovated home, staring at the dragon's head that lead its long, grey, scaly neck as it slithered through the splintered wood planks lining the edge of the opening. The creature's enormous head reached Mike at the opposite end of the room. Mike sat on the floor, his bare chest expanding and contracting with fear as it peeked through his vest at the monster in front of him. The dragon slowly stretched open its jaw to reveal its spear-like teeth that glistened with a mysterious slime that dripped from the roof of the dragon's mouth to its tongue before letting out a bone-rattling roar just inches from Mike's face.

Within seconds, Mike felt a tingling on his skin. He looked up to see individual strands of hair pulled upward lightly and was quickly, but smoothly hoisted into the air. When Mike lifted his chin, he saw the white bearded face of Emperor Aldour. The emperor sat on the scaly back of the colossal dragon, his hand raised toward Mike.

"You're coming with me, Mr. Kroon!" the emperor shouted as he pulled Mike toward the dragon, placing him on its back, his limbs bound by the emperor's telekinesis spell.

The crowd of seven stood at the foot of the dragon, angrily crying out to the emperor to relinquish their companion. They slammed their fists, stomped their feet, and readied their weapons and magic. Lindsay grabbed her sword from the rack, Ray's hands sparked with flame, and Kerry raised a stick of dynamite.

"What do you want with, Mike, asshole?!" Michael yelled.

"Is that any way to speak to the emperor?!" The emperor replied. "If you must know, I found my personal chef attempting to poison my food so I had him executed. It was... very amusing. Bloody, but... amusing. Now I need someone who I can trust... or manipulate, rather, to make my food. So I'll be taking him with me and there's nothing you can do about it!"

The dragon's mighty wings stretched upward with a crackle and flapped downward, thrusting itself into the sky as the emperor laughed maniacally over Mike's screams. The whole ordeal was over as quickly as it began.

"Come back here, you son of a bitch!" Michael yelled at the emperor, followed by a strong punch on the wall to his left. "God dammit!"

"So like... did that happen or...?" Ray asked.

"What the fuck was that?" Barbara continued.

"So... what now?" Kerry asked Andrew hesitantly.

Before Andrew could respond, Michael cut in with gnarled, "Grab your gear. We're getting Mike back. We'll end up starving without him. You know it and I know it. So let's go!"

Everyone in the room just stared at Michael with wide eyes. He stared back at them, his brow furrowed.

"Gear up! What the fuck are you waiting for?!" He screamed.

This jump-started to team into a frantic dance of each member sprinting around the cottage, running from weapon rack to bedroom to wardrobe to weapon rack once more. With everyone running around, gathering supplies, Michael, casually sauntered between the six other members to compile his armor, weapons, and survival equipment.

At last, everyone was in place, lined up in the main room, facing the hole in their wall. Michael, who was clad in his iron bracers with the artful engravings, fur pants and leather boots, walked back and forth, surveying each member's attire and weapons. They all stared at the burning, sapphire eyes of the grizzly bear headdress perched on top of Michael's head as he took tormentingly slow steps from one end of the line to the other, his gaze gliding from head to toe of each member.

He scrutinized Andrew first. Andrew had put on a newer leather chest piece with many more overlapping pieces all buckled together with various belts. The armor left his arms exposed to showcase his exceptional muscles from forearm to shoulder. At Andrew's side was his heirloom steel mace, freshly polished. Next, Michael surveyed Barbara. She had just put on the armor she had worn to the pub the night before. Her iron chest plate, though plainly weathered, still managed to reflect a vague glare onto Michael's face. Over her bare right shoulder, he saw her quiver, filled to the brim with her specially, self-crafted arrows.

Following Barbara's inspection was Lindsay's. Michael spared no time inspecting his bride-to-be from head to toe. He admired every inch of her attire, from her ruby-red locks, down past her storm-cloud-grey eyes. His gaze meandered past her collarbone, down toward her breasts, which peeked out from her white button-down that was missing the top three buttons. She wore no chest armor either. This worried and excited Michael, for if she were to be confronted, she was in greater danger, but he also didn't mind his fiancé showing off what she had, at least for his enjoyment. Thankfully though, both arms were quite heavily protected, in addition to her shield, which had been newly polished and emblazoned with her family crest. His "inspection" continued to follow every curve of her figure, down past the utility belt around her waist, past her hips to her legs, clad in tight leather pants, and lastly to her fur boots. With a wink and a nod, he parted eyes with Lindsay and moved on to Kerry.

Kerry had chosen his strongest chest plate, comprised primarily of ebony metal with a hint of gold detail. On his head, Kerry wore a steel-plated helmet that draped chain mail from the neck opening. As far as weapons went, Kerry's iron greatsword rested on his back and he wore several sticks of dynamite draping from his shoulder and some smaller bombs hanging from the belt, but Michael noticed something odd.

"What's up with the staff?" Michael inquired, quizzically.

"What about it?" Kerry responded.

"What is it?"

"Oh, it's just a little project I've been working on. It's a conjuration staff. I'd just finished crafting it, so I thought I'd take it on a little field test."

"All right then." Michael ended, turning to Ray and Dylon. "Aren't you two just adorable?"

Because they were both mages, Ray and Dylon had both chosen plain black robes with a dark blue trim and they each wore their hoods up. It appeared as though they had intended to match. They did not.

"What's the deal, Ray? No armor?" Michael asked, concerned for his friend.

"What am I, a bitch?" Ray knocked on his chest, which let out a hollow, metal clanging.

"What about you, shorty?" Michael asked Dylon. Dylon simply knocked on his chest as well, letting out the same metal clangs. "All right. I guess we're set to go. Lindsay, look ahead and see what you can see about what's gonna be going on."

Lindsay obeyed and bowed her head, concentrating on feeling the air around her. She breathed in and out slowly and evenly, relaxing her mind and soon, she saw it. At first things were hazy, but cleared up as time went on. She saw a castle. There was an army of men all dressed the same. She saw pair of legs laying down, blood flowing toward the toes.

"What do you see?" Michael asked her.

Lindsay explained what she had seen.

"One of us dies?" Kerry asked in disbelief.

"Who is it?" said Dylon.

Lindsay started to answer but was cut off.

"Don't spoil it!" Michael said. "It'll just be easier if we don't know. Now come on. Let's move."

The team left through the gaping hole in their wall. As they wandered down the dirt trail to the town below, they each took a look back at their home and sighed, hoping they could all return home safely. Strolling through the street, the group passed several stores and vegetable stands where some vendors called out to them, "Off on another journey?" and "You'll need some fresh meat to keep you from going hungry on your trip."

At one point, about halfway down the street, the wind picked up and Ray was blinded. He had been hit. He quickly grabbed at his face and pulled off a sheet of paper. Looking at it, he saw it was a bounty poster.

_To all able-bodied men and women of this kingdom!_  
_The town of Medafead requests that Hellman's dungeon_  
_be cleared of any unholy spirits._  
_There have been many disturbances with the undead_  
_and we would like them to cease._  
_A hefty reward will be paid to the person(s)_  
_who can successfully accomplish this task_

_ -The People of Medafead_

Ray was close to simply tossing the paper to he ground, but he thought about his potential reward and shoved the bounty into his pocket. Ray's love for completion was equal to his love of breathing and he was not about to pass up such an easy prize. With this, he jogged up further so he could catch up with the rest of the team at the edge of the village. The group exited through the main town gate and the whole world seemed to open up in front of them. They breathed in the fresh Spring air, beheld the mountains to the west, listened to the bubbling of the river to the east, and simply absorbed the scope of the space around them in the grassy plains.

"Ok, guys! Lets go get that skinny little bastard!" Michael exclaimed and the team jogged off away from home, away from Boxton, and towards the vast openness of the journey ahead of them.

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Nightfall was slowly stretching over the mountains and valleys across the land. For the young heroes, the night would be comforting. Night meant rest, night meant coolness, night meant no more sweating through the boiling day. Although nightfall was right around the corner, the sky was painted with dazzling pinks and vivid purples and stunning oranges off in the distance. On the horizon, Lindsay caught a glimpse of a strange golden hue radiating from a point just barely in her view.

"Torches?" She said.

"Where?" Ray asked.

"Over there." She pointed and the team looked.

"Must be another town." said Andrew.

"Medafead, judging by how far we've come." said Dylon.

"Medafead?" Ray exclaimed, remembering the paper had found. "Shouldn't we maybe... ya know... stay the night there?"

"Sounds good to me. I'm dying to get off my feet. Maybe I can charm the innkeeper into getting us free rooms." said Barbara with a wink.

"We'll let's go then. We don't have all night." Ray urged as he sped to the head of the pack while everyone shot him a quizzical look at his eagerness.

As time went on, the sky's pinks and purples and oranges faded into one enormous, black mass, blanketing the land. The team had gone a fair distance, but were still not very close to their destination. Lit only by a floating, luminous orb that Dylon had conjured up, they passed the time by telling stories of comical interactions between themselves and Boxton locals. They talked and laughed for so long that they weren't even focused on their destination anymore.

Soon, everything grew brighter. They had reached Medafead. The large wooden gates creaked as they were pushed open and the team shuffled through. Following a sign on the corner of one of the streets, the group made their way to the inn. On their way, everyone looked around them at the aging, wood buildings and the winding paths leading up the hill toward the more extravagant homes. They felt the rocky cobblestone beneath their feet and gave a few nods and waves to the few locals who were out at this hour. The orange light emanating from the abundant torches gave the whole town a warm and inviting atmosphere. At the end of their tour, they reached the inn. Kerry pushed in the door and everyone piled in.

Across the room stood a long bar made of fine mahogany, at which several scraggly, old men sat and drank. On the opposite side of the bar, stood a bald man with a thick, greying, black beard, wearing a collared shirt and an apron. When the group had walked in, he had been talking with one of the patrons sitting across from him, but when he looked and saw everyone at the door, he stopped and greeted them with a friendly hello.

Barbara stopped the group and meandered over to the bar, alone. She leaned up against it and began speaking with the bartender. The group couldn't hear her, but suddenly everyone but Lindsay felt a warm, calming sensation. It was warm, but they were freezing. They felt calm, but their hair stood on end. There was a feeling in the air that made them all light-headed, as if they could faint at any moment and no matter what hurt as they hit the floor, it would be okay. They became sleepier and sleepier and were at the tipping point of passing out when they were all snapped to alertness.

Barbara stood in front of them, "Ok, that's six free rooms. You're welcome." she said with a smile.

Everyone shuffled into their rooms, quickly. They were all dying to get some sleep. They disrobed and laid in their beds, falling out of consciousness almost immediately. In the dead of night, a noise stirred Kerry. In his groggy state, he peered through the door, which he had left ajar, and saw the bartender speaking with a cloaked figure. He handed the bartender a piece of paper, the bartender looked at it, handed it back to the hooded man and began speaking and pointing like he was giving directions. Kerry found it odd for people to be awake at this hour, but he needed his sleep, so he let his head flop back down and was back out in a moment.

The next morning rolled around and inside the bar was bustling with people. Kerry seemed to be the last one of his group to wake up. He stumbled out of his room to the sound of yelling.

"What do you mean, 'He's gone'?!" Michael was screaming at the bartender.

"I mean he got up in the middle of the night and left. He said he was gonna collect some bounty." The bartender handed Michael a copy of the poster Ray had found. "If you wanna go after him, he's headed off to Hellman's Dungeon. It's just outside of town and down the road a ways."

"Fine. Everyone, get your shit." Michael turned to Kerry's door. "Oh, Kerry, you're up. Good. Grab your shit, we gotta go find Ray."

The crew grabbed all their gear and set off out the door.

"Not bad for free." Dylon casually mentioned.

"I even managed to force the guy into making us pancakes. Chow down, motherfuckers." Barbara said, handing everyone three pancakes each.

They finished their pancakes as they walked toward the front gates of Medafead and began running to Hellman's Dungeon. They had broken through the gates, hooked right, and followed the stone walls of the town toward the dungeon.

Soon, they came across a structure in the middle of a brown field of dead wheat, laid flat against the earth. It was a large circle, six feet in diameter, and comprised of large stone bricks, standing three feet high.

"I guess this is it." Barbara commented.

Everyone gathered around the circle and looked in the center. The inside seemed to sink down forever, to the point that sunlight couldn't even reach the end. They noticed a rope hanging over the edge that was secured by a wooden stake in the dirt next to the hole.

"So who's going first?" Dylon asked.

"Thanks for volunteering, Dylon. In ya go!" Andrew replied.

"Fuck that! You go."

"You guys are pussies. I'll go first." Michael interrupted. "Dylon, gimme a light on my way down."

Dylon spawned another floating orb.

"I don't want anyone going till I'm down." Michael ordered, picking up the rope. "This rope doesn't look too sturdy, so be careful."

With that, he swung his legs over the edge and descended into the pit. As the team peered over the edge, Dylon's light became dimmer and dimmer till it was lost to the blackness. The group waited anxiously for several minutes till, at last, they heard a distant yell.

"Hey, we're good! Send the light back up!"

The light orb came whizzing up from the abyss and lingered above the pit. Lindsay, then, grabbed the rope and began her climb down into the darkness as well. Other way down, Andrew commented, "You better not be banging when I get down there."

Several minutes passed, the light shot up again, and the next person rappelled down. Once everyone had reached the frigid, dark bottom, they set off through a wooden door to the right. Michael pushed on the door, but it seemed to be blocked. He then, stood back and kicked it, cracking it pretty severely, nearly off the hinges. As they walked in, Michael looked to see the obstruction.

Behind the door, sat a charred corpse, blackened from head to toe. In fact, littering the corridor ahead of them, laid more singed corpses, top halves, bottom halves, heads, and headless bodies. As they warily stepped through the hallway, Dylon picked up a head by its thin hair, stretching its saggy, grey skin upward.

"So, what do you think? Ray busted in and just obliterated everything?" He asked.

"Sure as hell looks that way. But if he had killed everything, wouldn't he have come back?" Andrew wondered.

"Well let's keep going and see where the bodies stop." Kerry suggested.

The group continued onward through the dungeon, passing pile after pile of corpses. In some areas, the floor was smothered in a thick layer of blood, coating the aging bricks that made up the entirety of the underground labyrinth. Everyone had been walking for about an hour before passing through a set of enormous double doors and heading down a steep staircase where Ray laid, motionless, soaked in blood.

"Oh, shit..." Michael said, horrified. "No..." He ran to Ray and knelt next to him. Lindsay was close behind. She knelt with Michael, her hand on his bare back.

"I'm sorry... This is what I saw earlier in my vision. I just thought we could have at least been able to do something." She said, placing her other hand on Ray.

Suddenly a scream ripped through the air. Ray grabbed at his sword and sprang up, ready to strike. Everyone looked at him, shocked.

The room was silent for a minute.

"You son of a bitch!" Michael yelled, punching Ray in the shoulder. "What the fuck was that?!"

"Ow... I was sleeping, dude! Why were you like on top of me?"

"We thought you were dead, asshole! And... Wait... You were sleeping? Why are you covered in blood then?"

"Um... Hello? Did you not see the strawberry milkshake I made of this place? I just needed to sleep before I kill off this last guy. I tried taking shots from the doorway, but he was too strong, so I figured I'd rest."

"Jesus! You scared the fuck out of me, dickhead." Michael said.

"All right, sorry. So are ya gonna help me out so we can go get Mike or...?"

"Fine... Everyone, get ready. I want this done quick. The sooner we get outta here, the sooner we get Mike back."

Everyone surrounded the door, ready to attack. Lindsay unsheathed her sword, Andrew readied his mace, Barbara had an arrow ready to draw, Ray's hands sparked into flame, Kerry held a small bomb in each hand, Dylon led the group, preparing a shielding spell, Michael, whose axes were at his sides, counted down...

3...

2...

1...

To be continued...


End file.
